


Fireflies By the Lake

by IAmWhelmed



Category: Dead or Alive (Video Games)
Genre: Could be read as reader insert, F/M, First Time, Okay maybe I'm a little shamed, Romance, Shameless Smut, no name character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:07:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23302135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmWhelmed/pseuds/IAmWhelmed
Summary: She was small, and sweet, and-- god help him-- he wanted to protect her. She fit just so in his arms when she hugged him, like a melded piece of warm clay, so right he could set his chin on her head and soak in every bit of sunshine she had to give.
Relationships: Eliot/oc
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Fireflies By the Lake

She was a pretty little thing, he wasn’t denying that. Silky hair that fell in waves down her back, coy but innocent eyes that batted behind eyelashes when she smiled at him. Brad Wong was convinced he liked her-- and, well, maybe he did. But not like that. Not in the way Brad Wong liked girls, not in the way that he just wanted to put his hands on her (even if that sounded tantalizing and scary and  _ exhilarating _ ). Yes, of course, he was a man, and he’d been fighting for people to see him that way for a long time now, so he couldn’t shovel all of his urges down into the pits of his mind, couldn’t force himself so far into denial; of course he wondered what sounds she’d make if he kissed her in the right place, if he took her skin between his fingers in places he’d only known to exist but never seen for himself.

But, more than that, she was small, and sweet, and-- god help him-- he wanted to protect her. She fit just so in his arms when she hugged him, like a melded piece of warm clay, so right he could set his chin on her head and soak in every bit of sunshine she had to give. Despite those big eyes and that small smile and her tiny frame, she said things to him-- things that made his heart catch a beat and more than one limb twitch, and she knew it.

“Do you like it, Eliot? I thought of you when I bought it.”

“Catch you later, handsome!” Said, of course, with a blush and a small smile, like she’d gone and embarrassed herself.

He knew he liked her, knew very well he had a great many things he wanted to say to her, but none of that mattered the first time she kissed him. Late at night in the forest outside his dojo, off the paved path so she could see the stars in a place where trees didn’t form canopies in the sky. The fireflies were out, and the lake nearby was alight in the blue of the moon; she’d looked at him with a heart that wouldn’t stop beating and a hole in the dirt where she’d dug the toe of her shoe into the grass.

It was slow, and hot, and gentle, and he took her lip between his own and cupped her jaw in his hands as she set hers at his wrists. Kissing her was heat running to his cheeks and the urge to delve deeper. It was an uncontrollable urge to pull her closer, even though she was already flush against him, her hands then running in slow paths up and down his chest. She hummed against his lips as he brushed her skin with his thumb, and then she was grabbing his shirt, pulling him closer with her fingers tangled against his chest, and he could tell she was new at this, but it didn’t matter. He used the awkward shift to set a hand at the dip of her waist and pull her hips to his. He wasn’t thinking in that way, in the Brad Wong way, in the “I need to be touched now” way, but he definitely didn’t complain when she raised one leg to brush against his own, pressing that warm space between her thighs against an area he hadn’t realized was already so sensitive to her.

He gasped, and she did too, and suddenly her back was against a tree and her leg was around his hips and he was pressing against her, and her arms were around his neck and her hands were in his hair. He pressed himself between her legs experimentally, and found he’d garnered a gasp for his trouble. This time, without the caution, he rolled his hips until she tilted her head back, and his lips found hers and stifled the next intake. She stilled beneath him as her back arched, then squirmed as she, perhaps involuntarily, tried to press him as far as the barriers they still wore would allow. He pulled away, then pressed against her again, found his hands on her hips as he rocked them in a slow steady rhythm. “Oh…” He pressed a little harder, and she pushed back, met his every move with her own. He brought her other leg up and squeezed her thighs in his hands as he pressed his length against her, again and again, rocking as she gasped and squirmed between him and the bark. His pants were pretty thin, as was the nature of his training garments, so thin it was hard to forget they were still there, thin enough that he could feel her skirt rise against his abdomen and her thin underwear press and soak with every wave their bodies followed.

Slowly, he raised his hands further up her legs, felt the soft skin in his palms and the chills he left on her skin as his fingers inched under her skirt. “Oh, please…” Her breath on his ear was all he needed, and he slipped his fingers under the thin straps at her hips and hooked them there, pulling the fabric down and down until he met resistance at the tilt of her legs. Girl’s panties, he guessed, weren’t particularly elastic. He wasn’t sure what mood he’d be met with if he snapped them broken, but he imagined it wouldn’t be good. He let his hand trail back up, right until the tips of his fingers met the bare skin the hemline used to hide. He was nervous, as he probably should be, but he turned and pressed a kiss to her head as his finger slid down, down, down…

She lurched against him as he rubbed back and forth. He palmed her, pressed with some determination, but he stroked her with consideration. She took a deep breath in, then huffed against the nook of his neck, arms holding his chest to her collarbone, hands pulling at his hair as he dipped a finger between the folds, where she was warmest. “Eliot! Oh, please!”

He turned his head and dug his nose into her hair, suddenly finding it harder to breath, himself. He pulled and pressed the finger up and down, then cupped the rest of her in his palm and rubbed. “Oh, please!” She unlatched one hand from his hair while the other tangled his locks in her fist, free hand pulling frantically at the waistbands of his pants. Reluctantly, he pulled his hand from that spot of soft skin and helped her to tug his pants down just enough. The rest of him slipped from the hem, and he might have felt embarrassed if she hadn’t pulled his lips to hers for another searing kiss. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, and god it was a weird feeling, but he felt another rush in his veins as he dipped his tongue past her lips. Then he was on her neck, leaving wet kisses at the sensitive nerves he could nip at with his teeth. Her free hand joined her other at the nape of his neck, nails itching at his skin. His hand, having taken care of his pants, returned to their place between her tense legs. He used the tip of his finger to grace her in small circles, touch so featherlight that he wasn’t sure she could feel it until she gasped.

He dipped his finger inside again and pumped her slowly, feeling a slick coating with every stroke of her inner wall. He inched himself closer, pressing his length against her until she had taken every inch of him; he nearly choked. She threw her head back against the tree and cried out as he pulled out and pressed back in, locking her ankles around his hips, pulling him to her with more frequency as he filled her. In and out, in and out, his hands squeezing her legs as she cried out again and again. “Eliot!”

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you…”

He leaned back up and pressed a kiss to her temple.

Her nails raked his hair, one fist tangling strands around her fingers and pulling as her other hand traced the spine of his back. He shivered and pulled her closer-- couldn’t get close enough. Couldn’t squeeze her tight enough. Couldn’t think straight with how tight she was, how she cried out to him-- only him. He laid his forehead on her shoulder and tried to breath. “I-- lo…” he couldn’t get the words out. He gasped for air and raised a hand to cup the back of her head, pressed his lips to her throat and buried his nose in the crook of her neck. She smelled of roses and cherries and she  _ was so warm around him _ . His stomach did flips and he felt himself grow more solid inside of her, somehow.

“Yes, yes…!”

He grinded his teeth, tried not to get rough, but she didn’t complain when he cupped her bare end in his hand and shoved himself further. She opened her mouth and the most holy sound slipped by those pink lips, and her hand in his hair went limp for a moment. She wasn’t talking in words anymore, could only breath and pant and moan as he rammed himself into her. Some odd noise he’d never made before came out like a guttural gasp for air. He squeezed her end in his hand again, moaning as she sobbed into his shoulder. He slowed down for a few moments, willing his knees to not give out from under him until he’d given everything to her. “I love you,” the words came out as a whisper. “I love you.”

She cried into his shoulder as she spilled around him, and suddenly he was choking again and she was filled to the brim, and she was trying to catch her breath and he was feeling blissfully numb and  _ happy _ . She tightened her hold around his neck and he pulled away from the tree to set her to her feet. She set one foot on the ground and collapsed, and he fell with her, fell to his knees and held her to him as they both tried to wind down.

“Oh, Eliot…”

He kissed her, soft and slow and devoid of whatever lust had been there, then kissed her again and again wherever he could-- lips, cheeks, chin, nose-- until he needed to breath again. With a sigh, with a smile, he laid his forehead to hers. “Next time, we should find a bed, okay?”

She laughed.

* * *

~~ Epilogue ~~

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he entered the next Dead or Alive tournament, probably some bickering with Brad Wong. Probably some pool, maybe he’d see Leifang and Hitomi and they’d spar a bit. What he didn’t expect, what he hadn’t anticipated when he and Brad had walked into the bar and sat down to have a few drinks (at least Brad did), was Zack popping up next to him. He startled, of course, that man was awfully quiet for his vocal character, and Zack hummed. Two fingers to his chin, he leaned forward, eyed Eliot up and down, and Eliot had the sneaking suspicion that his eyes were narrowed behind his bright-rimmed glasses. “Something’s different ‘bout you…”

Eliot cocked an eyebrow. Brad Wong tipped his drink back for a sip of dark and bitter rum.

“Yo, you clapped some cheeks, didn’t ya?”

Brad Wong spit out his rum.

**Author's Note:**

> My "dear friend" Flash made me include that line at the end. The deal was, if he could come up with a character and situation in which anyone in DOA would use the term "clapped cheeks", I would include it.
> 
> Well...
> 
> Also, I'd like everyone to know that I ship Eliot with Ayane. It's just that there isn't enough Eliot-centric fanfic and I was very, very sad about that lmao I know I can't be the only girl who gets heart-eyes when Eliot comes on screen, so this one's for the other girls <3


End file.
